


Home is the Sailor

by Fiorenza_a



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 00:39:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3875866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiorenza_a/pseuds/Fiorenza_a
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gently Among the Whovians (Blencathra) posted a series of pictures to LiveJournal and Tumblr with the premise ''<a href="http://blencathra.tumblr.com/post/118019036056/what-if-an-older-ray-misses-bodie">What if… an older Ray misses Bodie…</a>'' this is an answer to that question.<br/><br/>Posted with kind permission.<br/>http://blencathra.tumblr.com/post/118019036056/what-if-an-older-ray-misses-bodie</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home is the Sailor

  
 

''Buck up, Doyle.''

Doyle smiled, it sounded so right, so familiar, so like it should. Maybe age had its compensations after all. Perhaps a slowly declining mind went out like the tide and left only the cherished jewels of memory behind, sweeping the mundane pettiness of life away to reveal these few precious gems.

So then, if there was still a game to play, Raymond Doyle would do his bit ''If you were really here, you know what I'd tell you to do, ghost or no ghost.''

''Don't be like that Doyle. I'm as here as I can be, aren't I? What more d'you want?''

That was easy, one word, and he'd wanted it for a very long time. ''Peace.''

''You wouldn't know what to do with it mate.''

Doyle sighed and ran his fingers through still unruly curls, he'd gone back to wearing them much as he once had these last few years. Age bleached and fine, the hair tangled in his fingers. ''Could be I'm ready to learn, I'm so tired, it's all so much effort now. I don't know why I still do it.''

''Give over, sunshine, you never knew why you did it. Just too bloody stubborn to give up.''

''Not any more.''

''You're just tired.''

Doyle snorted softly ''Didn't I just say that?''

''I only steal from the best. Come on Ray, get a shift on, time to go.''

Doyle eased weary bones back against his chair ''And where exactly am I going?''

''With me, where else?''

''That's a bit rich, isn't it?'' Doyle enquired mildly ''I seem to remember being with you for six solid days and nights. Not that it did me any good. Still left me on me tod, didn't you, you bastard?''

''I didn't have a choice Ray, you know that.''

''Doesn't mean I was ever happy about it.''

''Should 'ope not. I'm irreplaceable.''

Doyle smiled sadly to himself ''Turns out you're not wrong about that.''

''Right then, what you waiting for? I haven't got all day you know.''

''Fighting over 'emselves for the joy of your company, are they?''

''Something like that, come on Doyle, I've missed your ugly mug.''

''I'm old'' said Doyle as he reached forward to pick up the photo he had never needed to remind him.

''Never to me sunshine.''

Doyle gave a wry smile ''I wonder if you'd have really said that.''

''Why don't you come and find out?''

''You always were a bad influence.''

''Nah, not me gov, you were just always easily led.''

Doyle smiled once more and reached for the whisky, topping himself up ''One for the road?''

''No ta mate, I'm driving.''

Doyle breathed his amusement into his glass '''Course you are, should've guessed. Well here's to friends, absent and not so absent.'' He paused and poured another ''And here's to George Bloody Cowley, did he send you, by the way?''

''Ready to go now?''

''Yeah, ready to go now, I'm glad you came.''

''You were there for mine.''

''Not the same.''

''Yeah it is sunshine, 's what we do, isn't it?''

''Yeah, 's what we do'' Doyle let his head come to rest on the desk and his fingers slip from the glass ''yeah, 's what we always do...''

 

≈

 

''Gov? You in there? Can we see you a sec? Sir? Bloody hell, Ray?''

''Is he alright?''

''Don't be a bloody idiot all your life, course he's not alright, he's bloody dead.''

''Are you sure?''

''No, I made it up, I'm like that, I think I'm bleedin' hilarious.''

''Alright, no need to be offensive. It can be detrimental to the team dynamic.''

''I'll swing for whoever sent you on that bleedin' course, just get an ambulance here pronto and we'll worry about your bloody team dynamic later.''

''What's the hurry if he's dead?''

''That, you pointless tosser, is Raymond Doyle, the one bastard you want in your corner and the best guv'nor I've ever had, so you will get him an ambulance and you will get it right now and if they need an emergency to get 'em here, tell 'em some dickless halfwit just got thrown from the third floor.''

''Alright, keep your hair on, can't get a signal in here, I'll go and call it in from a land line. Be back in a jiffy, probably shouldn't touch anything in here.''

''Yeah, you do that. Bloody hell chief, what d'you go and do that for, eh? Thought you'd be around forever. Thought your sort were only supposed to fade away, wanted you at my Bethany's christening. Was gonna ask you...''

''It's on its way.''

''Well at least you didn't cock that up.''

''What's that under his hand?''

''That, my son, is one William Andrew Philip Bodie, ex SAS, ex CI5 and if you ever get, got that is, the old boy drunk enough, he'd tell you some stories that'd curl your bleedin' toes.''

''How come they know each other then?''

''Knew each other, both bleedin' gone, aren't they?''

''That doesn't make any sense.''

''How does that not make sense? Gov'nor was ex CI5 'imself, wasn't he?''

''You're kidding.''

''Not about that, I'm not. They were partners, reckon the old boy never really got over it.''

''Over what?''

''Does it ever hurt being that dense? Over losing his partner, you dimwit.''

''So who was that in the capri then?''

''What?''

''Straight up. Some bloke, if you'd put him in a line up, I'd've said him, driving a capri. Me Dad said his Dad 'ad one when he was a kid, before me Gran made him sell it. Not gonna mistake a capri, are you? Not these days.''

''When was this?''

''Dunno, maybe a couple of hours ago. Cut me up as he was leaving. Must love that motor, thing looked like it'd been made yesterday. Had some old bloke with 'im, didn't get a good look at 'im, figured they were still chucking out that lot from the bypass protest. Bloody tree huggers, don't they realise how long it takes me to get to work? Ten years time, five, it'll be gridlock. No one'll be able to move.''

''We'll it can't have been 'im, he got his thirty odd years ago.''

''Didn't say it was, just said it was odd. I'm gonna go down and wait for the ambulance. Hope I don't go out like that, not on me own. You staying here?''

''Someone's got to watch the old man's back, don't see anyone else doing it, do you? I'll catch you at the pub later, you can buy me that pint you owe me.''

''I don't owe you a...oh I get it, you realise that's bullying, or harassment, or both.''

''Tell you what, next time one of those courses comes up, I'll make sure your name isn't on it, then you won't have to worry about it, will you?''

 

END

 

_Requiem_

_Under the wide and starry sky,_  
_Dig the grave and let me lie._  
_Glad did I live and gladly die,_  
_And I laid me down with a will._  


_This be the verse you grave for me:_  
_Here he lies where he longed to be;_  
_Home is the sailor, home from sea,_  
_And the hunter home from the hill._

_[Robert Louis Stevenson](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Louis_Stevenson) _

  



End file.
